


Valhalla, I Am Leaving!

by lilacsigil



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Afterlife, Canonical Character Death, M/M, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), References to Norse Religion & Lore, Surprise Marriage, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-10-11 16:53:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20549510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilacsigil/pseuds/lilacsigil
Summary: Loki is astonished to find himself in Valhalla after his death at the hands of Thanos, and very disappointed at the company he's expected to keep. He soon finds another outcast, Hela's executioner Skurge, and together they search for a way back to Midgard.





	Valhalla, I Am Leaving!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theae/gifts).

"Well, this is unexpected." Loki looked down the green, rolling hills of Valhalla to a giant feast below. Thousands of warriors – mostly men, but a few Valkyries were among them – sat at long wooden tables, laughing, boozing and stuffing their faces in their well-deserved afterlife. Disgusting. Some of them were even singing ballads of their heroic lives and deaths! Loki rather hoped he wasn't expected to do the same, though his life and death had certainly been heroic. His singing voice was delightful, if he did say so himself, but even his fine voice would be spoiled by gnawing on an entire leg of venison at the same time. He cleared his throat: for someone who had recently been strangled, he felt entirely well. 

He started down the hill, then stopped in his tracks. Oh. Of course. That was Volstagg there at the table. Not someone Loki remembered fondly – and yes, Hogun and Fandral were right there with him, roaring out the chorus. Loki made an exceptionally bitter face: he'd never before thought about spending his afterlife with those buffoons, but he'd just had to go and die in battle, hadn't he? 

The smells of the feast were tempting, but considering the company Loki instead walked further up the hill and sat on a convenient flat rock to sulk. Even the hard rock was sun-warmed and comfortable, which wasn't what he wanted at all. 

"They're not meant to carry grudges from the Nine Realms," said a deep, slow voice behind Loki, "But believe me, they do."

Loki turned to see a vaguely familiar face. "What's your name? Skum? Skour? Weren't you were the one meant to be watching the Bifrost when Thor showed up? Good job there."

"My name's Skurge," he replied without rancour. "Hela's executioner."

Loki felt immediately more cheerful. "Oh good, there's someone here they'll hate more than me! Wait – Hela's not here, is she?"

"Nah, she returned to her own realm once she couldn't draw power from Asgard anymore. Far as I know, she's stuck there."

Loki smiled again. "Excellent. Now, Skurge, I'm always at my best with a big, dumb sidekick to assist me, so let's get to work."

"Work? What kind of work?" Skurge made no objection to Loki's characterisation of him.

"Getting out of here, of course!" 

As they walked across the high ridges, the scent of mead and roasted meat faded to be replaced with the clean, clear smell of mountain springs. From this height, Loki could see the ghostly outline of a massive feasting hall covering over the valley. The pillars were enormous steel spears, and the roof was tiled with golden shields. Ridiculous. 

"Odin mostly stays in the hall, leading the feasting and watching the combat," Skurge told Loki. 

"Odin's here? Oh, of course he would be. King of do-as-I-say-not-as-I-do! Naturally he had a loophole to get himself into Valhalla!"

Skurge sounded shocked out of his apathy for the first time. "He didn't die in battle?" 

"No! He decided it was time to go, wandered off and left the rest of us to Hela. Thanks a lot, Dad!" Loki called out, and immediately regretted it. Odin didn't appear, though, so maybe he wasn't quite as All-Seeing here in the afterlife. Good. 

"Where are we going?" Skurge finally asked, as the air grew colder. Loki hoped he wasn't going to start asking too many annoying questions.

Loki shook his head. "Sometimes I think nobody but me ever bothers to read anything."

"Yeah, I can't read. Never bothered me."

"Of course it wouldn't!" Loki snapped. 

"Sorry?" Skurge offered. Loki could see how that charmless vixen Hela had turned him so quickly. Really, anyone could have done it: Skurge just wanted someone to be in charge. 

"Apology accepted. Now, don't interrupt me again."

Skurge opened his mouth, then closed it with an audible snap. 

"As I was saying, reading means that you learn things. One of the things I learned, from books, is that the World Tree is here in Valhalla, or at least one manifestation of it. And the World Tree gives sustenance."

"The big tree? I know where that is! There's a she-goat that chews on it all day and mead spills from her teats, buckets and buckets of it."

Loki rolled his eyes. "That's disgusting. Lead the way."

"No problem!" Skurge shuffled past Loki on the mountain ridge and led them onwards. "We were going in the right direction already. How did you know?"

"As well as your disgusting boozed-up she-goat, there's a stag who also eats from the tree, and his horns spill pure water to make mountain streams. Water flows downhill, therefore we need to look up high for the source."

"Oh yeah, I get it. I've met the stag, but everyone likes the she-goat better. Because of the mead."

Loki did not deign to reply to that and they followed the mountain path onwards. 

"The World Tree!" Skurge pointed, as proud as if he had grown it himself. 

It was considerably smaller than Loki had expected, but then again perhaps it was a mere offshoot of great Yggdrasil. It was an ash tree, its bark still young and smooth, spring leaves bright green against the rocks and ice of the mountains. An ominous grinding sound filled the air: it was the great chewing jaws of an enormous she-goat, taller than Loki at the shoulder, and an even larger stag that stood below the tree. They were poised up on their hind legs to eat the lower leaves, and there was a large barrel beneath the goat; clear water spilled from the antlers of the stag. Loki very diligently avoided looking at the underparts of the she-goat, as he really didn't want to see the mead-teats and be put off alcohol for life.

"Majestic!" Skurge breathed, in genuine awe. 

"I thought you'd seen this before?"

"I have, but it's still incredible! Even if the other warriors don't want me in Odin's Hall, Valhalla is full of wonders."

His expression was so open and honest that Loki bit back a sarcastic comment and started to walk towards the World Tree instead. It seemed cruel to crush the man's spirit, even though he was an easily impressed simpleton.

"Hail Heiðrún! Hail Eikþyrnir!" he called out to the beasts, lest they think he was a thief and trample him with their nasty hooves. 

The goat kept eating while giving Loki an evil side-eye – which was the average goat expression as far as Loki knew – but the stag shook crystalline droplets of water from his remarkably clean antlers and stepped into Loki's path. 

"What is your purpose here, Odinson?"

"Oh, you talk. Wonderful. So much easier than miming. I wish to partake of the leaves of the World Tree."

"We provide sustenance aplenty for your kind."

Loki made a face. "You mean, that's you they're eating haunches of down there?"

"Myself and others. We are hunted in the morning and reborn by nightfall. All days are the same." The stag seemed untroubled by this. 

"So why can't I eat of the Tree? I won't need much."

"The World Tree is not for Asgardians, not without sacrifice."

Loki pointed to Skurge. "Okay, let's sacrifice him, then."

The stag tossed his head, creating a rain shower, and Loki was pretty sure there was a major eyeroll in there. 

"That's not much of a sacrifice to you, Odinson."

"One leaf!" Loki shouted, then felt Skurge's hand on his arm. 

"Wait, I can help."

Loki slapped his hand away. "Well, why didn't you say so? What use are you?" 

Skurge bowed to the stag. "Mighty Eikþyrnir, Lord of the Rivers. I have served you in the past and beg you for a favour in return."

"That's more like it," the stag said, and dipped his head towards Skurge, flicking water everywhere. "Indeed, you cleaned my antlers and hooves, and picked thorns from the fleece of my counterpart Heiðrún."

Loki watched, his arms folded and his mouth a thin, angry line. He couldn't believe that a fleece-cleaning hoof-picker was given more respect than he, a Prince of Asgard and noble fallen hero! Skurge was also a noble fallen hero, technically, but this was merely reinforcing Loki's dislike of mystical creatures, first developed when one of Thor's goats bit him on the backside. Annoying bastards, every one of them.

"May I request one leaf from the World Tree?"

"No, you may not. That request is not for yourself but for Loki Odinson, good warrior, and I owe him nothing. He is neither your lord nor your kin."

Skurge bowed again and turned to Loki. "I'm sorry."

"Wait a moment. The stag claims I am not your lord or kin, but that's easily fixed. Swear fealty to me."

"I will!" Skurge's face lit up, which Loki found rather disturbing. This man seemed desperate to serve, even grooming mystical animals when no men would speak to him. He'd seen this kind of stupid blind loyalty before – Thor's companions might mock him, but they never disobeyed him – and of course Skurge himself had sworn to serve Hela. Loki much preferred hypnotising people so you didn't have to wonder about their character and when they'd inevitably betray you. And yet, he was as much outcast as the wretched hero-worshipping Skurge, in this place of the fallen. What grounds did he have to compel loyalty, or Skurge to offer it?

Skurge had fallen to one knee and Loki felt an overwhelming urge to kick him. 

"Ow!" Skurge toppled over sideways. "What did you do that for?"

"Stop being a pathetic worm! You're a hero of Valhalla! You won the friendship of a mystical stag! You've learned every damn thing around here! Stand up for once!"

Skurge stood, and for the first time Loki realised that Skurge was barely shorter than Loki himself, and considerably wider; and he still carried an axe, while Loki had only his daggers and was uncertain if his magics would work in this realm.

Taking a step closer to Loki, Skurge frowned. "You know, Loki Odinson, you were the first person to trust me with anything serious, when you had me replace the rebel Heimdall. And I failed you, because I was drunk."

"Well, I suppose there was a good reason why nobody trusted you with anything serious up until then. More fool me."

"Yeah. Makes sense." Skurge looked down. "Sorry."

Loki sighed. "What was I just telling you? Anyway, your fealty means nothing if you swear it to every half-baked conqueror who asks you."

At that, Skurge grinned, for a moment. "Present company excepted?"

There was a snuffling noise from behind him and Loki spun around. The stag and goat were laughing at him. 

"Shut up, you drippy beasts!" Loki shouted. "You'll only grant Skurge a favour if he's my sworn warrior or my kin? Fine!" He clasped Skurge's hands between his. "Then marry me."

The laughing beasts fell silent, and Skurge's eyes opened wide. "You would marry me?"

"Your looks are tolerable. And you're terrible at fealty, perhaps you would do better as a husband where neither of us rules over the other. 

"I…I will try." He leaned forward and kissed Loki on the lips. "I accept."

The stag scoffed. "This is no true marriage!"

"Give me your axe," Loki said to Skurge, holding out one of his daggers in return. "There, we have traded ancestral weapons. And there is no shortage of mead!" 

He scooped up mead from the large barrel under the hideous teats of the she-goat and put his cupped hand to Skurge's mouth. Skurge did the same in return, surprise and delight on his face. The mead was excellent, though Loki was sure his taste buds could detect a faint goaty smell.

"You…" roared the stag, outraged, then thought of another reason. "It's not Frigga's Day! That's the only day you can marry!" 

The more the stag denied their marriage, the more attached Loki grew to his new husband, who had tried only to aid him, in the best way he could.

"She must be here," Loki argued, "As she was killed nobly in battle. And you told me that all days are the same here, and Frigga is here, so every day must be hers." 

"Sophistry!" 

Skurge pushed past Loki and knelt before the stag. "Perhaps so, but you agreed to a favour for my kin. I would not believe that Eikþyrnir, Lord of Rivers, was an oathbreaker."

"Fine!" the stag replied, ripping a small branch from the tree with its great teeth. "Here, take this to your spouse and may it make you happy!" It was the most unconvincing blessing Loki had ever heard, but he'd take it. 

Skurge picked up the branch and its precious leaves and gave it to Loki. "Here, a wedding gift."

"Thank you, husband." Hand-in-hand, they walked away from the World Tree, towards the next valley, until they were out of sight of the angry stag. 

Loki removed the most tender leaf and held it up before his eyes. 

"Loki, I thought you were going to eat the leaf? For sustenance?" Skurge held the rest of the branch for him.

"If I wanted that, I'd be down in Odin's Hall eating venison from that wretched stag. No, my true sustenance is knowledge, and the World Tree will feed me that."

The veins of the leaf glowed gold with tiny runes and Loki quickly read them, scanning from the central vein out to the very tips of the leaves. 

"Skurge! Midgard is under threat from a creature who will destroy half of all life, with no chance to resist or fight back. The heroic realms will gain no more warriors: all will travel to Hel's realm."

"Is it Hel's doing?" 

"I don't think so, though I'm only reading this from a magic leaf. Leaves can be annoyingly non-specific. Hel's domain will feed from this disaster, yes, but I think it more likely that the creature in question is the one responsible for my untimely but heroic demise." Loki thought for a moment about asking Odin for assistance, then immediately thought again. "Do you know how to travel from here to Fólkvangr? The realms must be very close, both being for the noble dead."

"Of course. Valhalla is in the hills with Odin, Fólkvangr is in the meadows with Freya."

Loki touched the side of his face. "See? I told you that you knew much of this place, if only you would claim that knowledge."

Skurge placed his hand over Loki's. "You are still silver-tongued, but I wonder if our deaths have brought us both wisdom, as it did to your father."

"Not the way I would have chosen," Loki grimaced. "Now, lead me to these meadows. We will surely find my mother there, and she is most wise in these things. Not to mention far more helpful than my father."

Descending from the mountains, they followed a clear stream that Loki pretended wasn't from the antlers of a particularly annoying stag. Skurge gathered some reddish-gold berries on the way and they both ate them, tasting the tart fruit and sweet honey, better than the mead of their wedding. 

Loki put a spray of berries into Skurge's hand and watched him while he ate them. The low evening sun gleamed on his shaven head and his features softened in the warm light. 

"You're staring at me," Skurge said, though he didn't look away.

"Well, I've never gone and married anyone before, have I? And your axe is heavy, do you want it back?"

"Thanks." Skurge reached out for the axe, his hands closing over Loki's on the handle. He leaned forward and kissed Loki's mouth. Loki's mind, as a matter of habit, frantically ran through calculations for a moment – betrayal? Joke? Attack? – before he gave into the kiss, ripe with the delicious berries they had both been eating. Skurge's hands still covering Loki's, they tasted of each other for a long time, the golden dusk paused above them; the axe planted in the dirt to let them explore freely. They were shielded by the long grass and berry bushes from any spying eyes, and Loki wondered at the strangeness of kissing a man who had, for no reason other than to help Loki, agreed to be bound to him. Skurge only had eyes for Loki, his armour warm with his body heat and relaxed at the hands of his husband who had demanded equality over servitude. 

Eventually clouds scudded overhead and they both caught their breath, then walked on. Skurge kept a bright spray of berries, a gift for Frigga. It would be rude to arrive empty-handed.

The meadows of Fólkvangr were broad and dotted with tiny red flowers among the long grass. A shining hall rose in the distance, in the shape of a great longboat, rising above the waves of wind-ruffled grains and grasses around it. 

Skurge smiled. "It's beautiful." 

Loki shrugged. "It could also be full of warriors who consider us both traitors, as Valhalla is."

"You are clever, I am strong. This hold no fear for me."

Though he should have snapped at Skurge's lack of self-preservation, Loki decided to take it as a compliment instead. They were a team, now, and even his constant emotional river of doubt and suspicion could not deny it.

A huge cloud of shimmering light appeared at the prow of the ship, and it coalesced into two beings: Frigga and Freya, two-thirds of the All-Mother. They stood side by side, in shining gold robes, and yet Frigga's face, that should have been over-aweing, was smiling and welcome.

"Loki, my son!" Frigga and then Freya stepped off the prow, two goddesses floating down to the flowering meadow, light streaming behind them. 

Freya looked over Loki and Skurge and smiled too, her falcon feather cloak settling around her in the light breeze. "A wedding!"

Skurge held the spray of berries out to Frigga. "We ask for your blessing, All-Mother."

Frigga threw her arms around both of them, which was something of a stretch even for such a tall woman. "Of course!" The spray of berries un-ripened into white flowers, and she cast a few into Loki's hair, where they turned to silver ornaments, and onto Skurge's breastplate, where they became etched into the armour. 

Freya hadn't got in the way of the reunion, but she was obviously as pleased as Frigga. "You may not be staying here for long, but please, come visit my ship-hall."

Loki narrowed his eyes. How did she know that they were trying to leave? Wasn't she supposed to be choosing people to stay in her realm? 

Freya laughed, and took Loki by the hand. "Frigga was right: you pay attention. I do choose people to remain in Fólkvangr, but that does not mean everyone who comes here remains here. We have ways to watch the other realms, to be ready."

"Why didn't you help when Hela and Surtur were destroying Asgard, then?"

Frigga took his arm, her other arm already hooked through Skurge's. "Because, as your brother said, Asgard is its people, and its people survived. And also because it is difficult and dangerous to travel between realms without the Bifrost to guide us. Loki, you have done it before. I believe you, of anyone, can find your way."

"I'll protect him," Skurge offered. 

"Thank you," Frigga replied. "I do not want to send him away alone."

All four of them floated up through the air to the prow of the ship. The wood of the deck was sun-warmed and polished with the passing of many feet, and from inside the giant vessel came laughter. 

"Don't tell me you're drinking that wretched goat mead too," Loki muttered to his mother. 

"Heiðrún the she-goat is an honoured guest here, so no, we brew our own mead with the honey from the bees in the meadows. Manners, Loki."

Loki could have cried with the familiarity of the phrase, but with Skurge's solid presence loyally beside him, composed himself instead. He held up the remaining leaves on the World Tree branch. "Can you direct me with this knowledge, Mother?"

She took the branch and the leaves fell into her hand, changing to gold filigree as they did. Each of them sparkled with a map to a new realm. The branch itself turned into a fine gold chain, and she looped it around Loki and Skurge's wrists. "Here, so you will not be parted."

Skurge took Loki's hand in his, the gold chain settling into place like a living thing to bind them together at the wrists. No matter how the space between the realms tumbled and tore at them, they would not lose each other.

With a complex gesture of Frigga and Freya's hands, a sphere of darkness opened in front of the ship's prow, and a moment later stars gleamed from the hold in spacetime. Loki held up the first leaf, his map, and aligned it with the stars. 

"Ready?" he asked Skurge. 

"Always," he replied.

Loki fell into spacetime but the strength and solid reality of Skurge bore him upwards: instead of falling, he felt like they were flying, Skurge the ship and Loki at the helm. Perhaps a noble death in battle had affected him – who was he to reject time to rest and learn, in favour of fighting back against all that had happened? The flowers in his hair and on Skurge's breastplate sparkled like stars as they leapt through the universe, the uncomfortable peace of Valhalla and Fólkvangr behind them, and only danger ahead. Their heroic tale was not ending but beginning.


End file.
